


Sneaking Out

by GealachGirl



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Fluff, Galas, Journalism, M/M, ditching parties for better things, face it they're both introverts, the extremist story mentioned is totally real
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-30 19:29:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15103409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GealachGirl/pseuds/GealachGirl
Summary: Nate's not really sure about the fancy party or the table full of strangers. Luckily, Evan's way ahead of him there.





	Sneaking Out

**Author's Note:**

> Here's to the journalists who were murdered at work on June 28, and those who put out a paper the next day.
> 
> The pen is mightier than the sword.

Maybe it was a little rude, but Nate couldn’t help staring at the open bar across the ballroom and ignoring his company to do it.

He didn’t really like parties to begin with, and it was worse when he was “Evan’s Marine friend.”

He never introduced Nate like that, but it was a given. All of his press friends knew he’d been embraced by the platoon he’d embedded with in Iraq, and that they tended to be present in a lot of personal stories and at certain events. And Nate was fine with it.

He just didn’t really know anyone and it got uncomfortable after he’d run through all of the small talk.

_“Yes, I’m Nate Fick.” “The lieutenant.” “I don’t think it’d be fair to comment without the captain here.” “Yes, Evan impressed us all. He got pretty close with everyone.”_

So far, no one had asked why he was here though, and he hoped it stayed that way, if only because he didn’t want to draw attention.

At the table, Nate checked his phone again to see another text from Ray, and he was nearly relieved.

It was a picture of Brad bent over a pile of computer parts. “At least you have plans involving other people tonight,” Ray had written, the eyeroll understood. “Just go be charming.”

Nate wished. He looked over the crowd and the fountain, the tables of food and formal clothing. Women walked by in multi-colored gowns, and all the men were in boring tuxes. Including him.

It was hard to be charming when you weren’t sure where to direct the charm and didn’t have anything to get for it.

He glanced at the last place he’d seen Evan, but he wasn’t there anymore, whisked off to another cluster of important people, probably. White House journalists or foreign correspondents or TV talking heads. Nate’s tablemates were all turned away, chatting to each other about projects and other friends, and Nate sat there because he didn’t want to be rude.

But nothing was happening, and no one cared anyway. So he went to get a drink.

The table with the appetizers and refreshments was beside the bar, across the room, so Nate had a chance to sweep it for a sign of Evan. But even at 6’4 he was invisible in the crowd. Old habits from recon told him going into it probably wouldn’t help because he was more likely to get lost.

The bar was self-serve and from what he’d learned about journalists in the time he’d known Evan, he wasn’t surprised. Only grateful.

“I don’t recognize you, who’re you with?”

Nate spun around and saw an older guy, late forties, squinting at him. He’d seen him somewhere before. “Oh, no one, I’m just a guest.” The guy nodded.

“Whose?”

“Evan Wright’s?” It was always a toss-up whether someone had heard of him, but this guy nodded.

“He’s up for an award, you know. For depth reporting. Lots of people do it but no one quite the way he does.”

“Really.” Nate had known about the possibility of an award, Evan had mentioned it when he invited him, but he hadn’t said anything else.

“For his work on extremist groups. He went out of his way to find them, gain their trust and spend time with them,” this new guy said. “He actually tolerated listening to them spout bullshit and stuck around long enough to get a story about them. Then he talked to sane people. And at the end of it all he had a decent package put together about the increased number of organized assholes in the country.”

“Wow.” Nate believed it. That kind of dedication was one of the first things he’d noticed about Evan. And one of the first he’d admired.

He glanced at the crowd again.

“We’ll see how it goes though. It’s always a competition.”

“Yeah,” Nate said. “That sounds exactly like him though. Doing the things no one else thinks of.” The guy nodded.

“He’s got talent, and almost idiotic perseverance that’s for sure.”

“There you are.” It was Evan, and his voice was hurried, but also relieved. Nate turned to look at him and stopped at the tightness beside his eyes. “I think they’re serving desserts at the table, and I’ve heard some good things.” He glanced back toward their table, though it was invisible through the crowd.

“Hello Evan, I was just telling your guest about your work. Impressive stuff,” the man said. “Have you thought about leaving freelancing?”

Evan turned a smile to the man behind Nate and it smoothed out his face, but Nate thought he still saw the tension running through his back and shoulders.

“Thank you. I actually have a few projects lined up, but if I ever need somewhere to land I know where to look.” His voice was bright, and a small laugh fell off the end of it to accompany the smile stuck on his face. Nate thought it might fool anyone else.

He lifted an eyebrow and glanced back at the man he’d been talking to, but the guy just replied with a laugh of his own and a vow to look out for Evan’s future work. Then he waved and melted back into the crowd after saying something about how dessert was a fantastic idea.

As soon as he was gone, Evan let out a breath and his posture softened again.

“What’s up?” Nate asked. The air had been put on edge.

“That was the managing editor for The Boston Globe,” Evan said, looking after the spot where he’d disappeared.

Nate was about to comment on that, to mitigate the discomfort a bit, but then Evan turned to him and he saw the spark of an idea in his eyes. It flipped his stomach, like always, and he wanted to know it instantly.

“Follow me,” Evan said as he scanned the room.

Nate glanced at the party and the expensive outfits and the people chatting in their groups. No one paid them attention.

So, Nate reached out to grab his sleeve and Evan flashed a smile before he led him toward the back. The party flashed around them as they passed everyone without slowing, and Evan flipped his hand around to grip Nate’s.

Nate had no idea where they were going, but he suspected he shouldn’t be this excited about it. In a corner, beside an empty table, a set of glass doors led outside and onto a balcony. Seeing it, Nate decided he really liked Evan’s idea.

They both glanced over their shoulders, and then slipped outside before anyone noticed.

The first thing Nate noticed was the quiet.

The second was the night sky stretched overhead, and the brightest stars out in full force, fighting the lights from the nearby city.

And they both took a moment to breathe, unobserved.

When Nate turned back to him, he saw Evan grinning. It made him smile back, and then he laughed.

They both looked so out of place in their formal clothes, like the tuxedoes were too stiff on them. But that spark was still there in Evan’s eyes, and Nate felt carefree.

“This was a good idea,” he said around the rush of bubbles in his chest.

“Bet they didn’t plan for anyone to come out here,” Evan said, looking around the dark, empty balcony. Nate noticed he looked looser, too, more like the man who stuck with a platoon of Marines during a war, and the kind of guy who would hang out with neo-Nazis for a story. More like the guy he’d started to fall in love with.   

“So what are we doing out here?” he asked, settling his back against the stone railing. The rush of euphoria was dissipating and he noticed again how different Evan looked out here.

The brightness in Evan’s eyes didn’t fade when he shook his head and set his arms on the railing beside Nate, leaning over the edge.

“Just getting out of there,” he said. “I don’t know about you, but I was feeling suffocated.”

Nate nodded. That seemed entirely possible.

He knew the answer to the question he was about to ask, but he thought it might go somewhere interesting. “Not your crowd?”

“Something like the opposite,” Evan replied. “How about you? Were you uncomfortable?”

Eventually somewhere interesting.

By now Nate was used to Evan turning conversations around so he wasn’t the focus. When Nate pointed it out Evan always swore it wasn’t on purpose, just habit, but he thought that was only half-true.

“Maybe a little bored,” he said.

“Sorry. Most journalism events aren’t like this. They’re more casual and cynical.”

Nate shrugged. “It’s not too bad. But what turns you off of all this?”  

Evan waved a hand like he was looking for the right words. “It’s not my scene,” he said plainly. “I do fieldwork and spend as little time in a newsroom as possible. Which I’m sure you’ve figured out.”

“The Boston Globe guy did say something about embedding with an extremist group.”

Evan laughed, but he also made a face. “I’m not used to people talking about my work with me, and I’d really rather do the work than hear about it.” He paused, looked out toward the city in the distance, and Nate watched him.

He really was different from what he’d expected from reporters, in general, but then their portrayals weren’t generally kind. Evan just wanted to explore the world, its issues, and bring people along for the ride.

And Nate didn’t have to tell him he deserved the talk or the awards. It was the last thing Evan cared about.

“But, you know, when you’re invited to galas and presentations, you can’t really say no,” Evan said. “Unless you’re a big shot like Bob Dylan. I’ve just always preferred letting the work speak for itself.”

At that, he seemed to be done and Nate moved closer. Evan looked over at him, eyebrows raised like he was waiting for Nate’s response.

“Well,” he said. “I think it definitely does, and I’ve seen the effort you put into it.” He reached out to put his hand on Evan’s arm. “And it’s a good thing you brought me here.”

Evan raised an eyebrow, and Nate grinned before he hopped up on the railing. “Because we can entertain each other.”

“That was the idea,” Evan admitted.

“Another great one.”

Then Nate put a hand on Evan’s face and bent forward to kiss him. Evan smiled wide before he leaned in closer and kissed him back.

And after a bit of that, Evan joined him on the railing, facing the other way, and they talked about everything else but the awards gala as it continued inside.

Without them.


End file.
